Cedric Vonn closed his eyes in peace, like a soldier who had completed his final mission. Before the ink on the contract had even dried, he returned to the soil of Lapis Lazuli, the land he had devoted his life to cultivating. It was the departure of an old farmer who had kept lonely watch over his vines in the fog of Napa Valley.
“If that was Father’s wish, then we will abide by it as well.”
Leo and Rose’s attitudes had changed as if by a miracle overnight. No, to be precise, the “realistic consolation” I offered had quelled their greed. I handed them the five hundred thousand dollars I had set aside for Elder Cedric’s treatment and nursing expenses, in the name of condolence money and immediate compensation.
A large sum of five hundred thousand dollars in cash, on top of the safety net of a thirty-year annuity. To his children, that became sufficient cause and sufficient benefit to honor their late father’s final wishes.
“The transfer of ownership of Lapis Lazuli has been completed. This land is now officially an asset of Redwood.”
With the lawyer’s confirmation, all the official procedures that needed to be done were finished. The funeral was simple, but everyone who attended was anything but ordinary. Owners of renowned wineries and winemakers who had long made their names in Napa came to pray for his repose.
---
Robert Mondavi’s estate in Oakville.
On the splendid terrace, two giants who symbolized the history of Napa Valley sat facing one another. Across from Robert Mondavi, seated in a wheelchair, was an elderly gentleman with sharp eyes and impeccable posture. It was William Harlan, founder of Harlan Estate and the man called the emperor of Napa Valley.
“Are you truly in your right mind, Robert?”
William Harlan’s voice was cold. Without bothering to hide his displeasure, he snapped at Robert.
“You helped that stubborn old Cedric’s land be handed over to that young Oriental upstart? That is land our Harlan legal team has spent years working on. That choice piece of property we intended to bring in at the right time to complete Napa’s finest Merlot blend!”
Robert stroked the cup filled with warm black tea and gave a bitter smile.
“Helped him, William? You are still underestimating that fellow. I merely showed him the way. It was Brian’s ability that allowed him to break through and take it.”
“Damn it, what are you talking about? In the end, weren’t you the one who told him the value of that farm?”
“Listen, William. I’m not a fool either. That young fellow from Redwood had his eye on the mud flats of Coombsville from the beginning and asked me who owned them.”
The corner of William’s eye twitched.
“Is that true?”
“It is. Why would I give away information of that caliber for free?”
“Damn it… To think that young brat even has an eye for land…”
As William muttered under his breath with a scowl, Robert smoothed the blanket over his knees.
“He is a strange one. Usually, if someone has talent at that age, even then he ought to lean toward either farming or winemaking. But for him to surpass us in both… It is difficult to understand.”
“Hmph! You’ve fallen for him completely.”
“Rather than fallen for him, I would say I feel fear.”
It was not just an empty remark. When Robert thought of that young Oriental man, he felt not only curiosity, but even fear.
“Fear? You, Robert?”
William looked incredulous. It was hard for him to believe that a mythical figure of Napa Valley, now nearing death, could feel fear toward another young winemaker.
But Robert calmly opened his mouth as he caressed the warm teacup.
“I believed wine was made by capital, brand, technique, and perfect terroir. But that Oriental young man from Redwood had proven none of those things. Yet look at him now. He already has a brand and technique, and he is acquiring capital as well. The problem is… terroir. And in truth, that is the part that makes me fear him.”
At those words, William nodded as if he agreed.
“Redwood… It certainly is a mystery that such a firm Cab could come out of that place.”
“Considering that, if he were to obtain true, proper terroir as well…”
As Robert frowned, William raised his voice.
“That is why you should have guided him somewhere else, no matter what it took! Those mud flats in Coombsville are land that can only shine under the management system of a massive winery like ours. And yet you handed it over to some unidentified Redwood?”
“Ha. Listen, William. From my perspective, handing it over to you would not exactly have been welcome either.”
“No. If it had gone to me, at least you could have kept another winery from rising up to threaten Continuum.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You are still full of greed. If you coveted it so much, why didn’t you buy Lapis Lazuli earlier?”
Perhaps that struck a sore spot, for William’s gaze turned fierce.
“How could I buy it when those brats kept naming such ridiculous prices? Did they intend to make a fool of me?”
“We all thought the same way, which is why none of us bought that land. Thinking back on it, it was land open to anyone. That young Oriental fellow from Redwood simply bought it at a price we considered expensive. But I, too, regret it a little now. A mere three million dollars… Why did I haggle over the price and let it slip away when I should have just bought it…”
It probably had not been because of the money. The fact that they would be buying it at a higher price than other land, the thought that they would look like fools of Napa Valley—those were the reasons that had kept them from paying the price too readily, even though the land was good.
William crossed his arms and looked out at the cold, empty vineyard as he spoke.
“Well, fine. The judgment of my chief winemaker, Bob Levy, has never been wrong. The Merlot from Lapis Lazuli has been terrible these past few years. There was too much nitrogen, and the acidity was a mess. The grapes were full of that characteristic Coombsville muddiness, so there must have been a problem with that land we didn’t know about.”
That was another reason they had not bought the land. Over the long term, the condition of the Merlot had gradually worsened. Naturally, the value of the land had fallen along with it.
“That may be true.”
In a sense, it was like a fox looking at grapes hanging from a vine and deciding they must be sour, but Robert agreed with that opinion as well. He, too, acknowledged that the quality of the Merlot from the mud flats of Coombsville was not what it had been in its prime.
William, who had been quietly watching Robert, rose from his seat. Then, calmly putting on his coat, he said,
“Still, it is good to see that Continuum seems to be carrying on your will well. They will struggle for a while… but I do think it is an area capable of producing quite a fine wine.”
“I’m grateful you say so.”
“…Even when you are gone, if anything happens to Timothy, I will help him.”
They had once been rivals, and now one side had fallen, but William offered those words to give some reassurance to Robert, who was facing death.
“Just don’t try to devour him.”
“Ha. He is not an especially appetizing target. The young brat from Redwood, on the other hand…”
As he turned to leave, Robert spoke quietly.
“Ah, did you see that?”
“Hm?”
When William turned around, Robert gestured to an employee behind him. The employee immediately approached with a crystal bottle on a tray.
William stared at it, wondering what it was.
“What is it? Ruby Quartz?”
“Look closely at the bottom.”
Only then did William confirm the mark engraved below the center of the label, and his brow furrowed.
“Warren Winiarski?”
“That’s right. What Warren made after joining Redwood was not wine, but brandy. It has not been long since its release. Since you came all this way, I’ll give you one as a bribe. Take it with you.”
“……”
William stared at the ruby-brown brandy sitting on the tray, then picked up the bottle.
“I hope I see you very late, if at all.”
Watching William walk away with the bottle in hand, Robert murmured,
“As do I…”
Since William would have no reason to visit Robert for the time being, the next time they met would likely be at Robert’s funeral. That was why he had said he hoped it would be late.
After getting into his Rolls-Royce sedan, William Harlan tore off the seal on the Ruby Quartz right there without waiting. Then he poured the liquor into an old-fashioned glass kept in the car.
But the moment he poured it, the burst of cherry aroma made his brow crease.
“What kind of… brandy is this…”
When he brought the glass to his nose, the intense scent of alcohol and rich cherry aroma made William’s face scrunch up even more. Until now, no brandy had ever existed with such a deep, brilliant fruit fragrance.
At last, William Harlan took a sip. Along with the hot sensation blazing down his throat, the cherry aroma filling his mouth and nose made him close his eyes without realizing it.
Then, slowly opening his eyes, he raised his brows as high as they would go and said,
“Find out which company produced this brandy.”
“Understood.”
After giving the task to his secretary, he closed his eyes for a while, savoring the dense cherry aroma lingering in his mouth.
---
At that same time, while William Harlan was speaking with Robert at the Oakville estate.
“You’re here?”
I waved to Warren Winiarski, who had appeared at the farm in Coombsville.
“You have quite the knack. To think you actually managed to acquire this land.”
Warren raised the collar of his old coat and slowly looked over the vineyard to which Cedric had devoted his life.
At the threshold between late autumn and winter, the landscape of Lapis Lazuli was desolate. The vines, their harvest over, exposed bare branches, and the fog-damp mud clung stickily to the soles of our shoes with every step.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
“It is good… but you don’t intend to keep the farm as it is, do you?”
To his seasoned eyes, the grave illness the land currently suffered from came into view before its potential did.
“Of course not.”
“As expected… you know. When you pointed out Coombsville and the western slope of Oak Knoll before, what surprised me and worried me quite a bit was that the quality of the Merlot here had been declining more and more. Do you know why?”
I nodded.
“Yes. The soil has already been acidified by excessive fertilizer, and the strata have been compacted under heavy machinery.”
“Then you must have a restoration plan. Surely you’re not thinking of completely overturning it like the Silver Oak site?”
“Haha, of course not. But the direction is similar.”
“The direction is similar?”
Warren’s concern was valid. Winter pruning and soil maintenance were